strange anticipation
by Juleezy
Summary: Denzel's just trying to make it through his last year of high school. He really doesn't need any problems along the way even though he could easily solve his way through. Too bad he's just adding more to the equation. [AU, Denzel centric.]


**A/N:** So, I'm sick in the head. Yeah, I know. People ask me, "What's wrong with you?" all the time. Okay, this'll either be a oneshot or an ongoing story, most possibly the latter though. I started this because I wanted to be the first to do this kind of pairing thingy, I've wanted to try a high school fic although on a different pairing, try to make underrated characters of FFVII have a bigger role than usual, try to get into the brain of a character, and I just really love Denzel and think he's friggin' adorable. :)

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything. I just own my crazy ideas, yeah.

**Strange Anticipation**

Denzel's laying in bed with his blue sheets over his head. His awakening body is telling him that it is way too early to be up, considering how it was used to waking up often in the late afternoons. The shaggy brunette peeled off the blankets and immediately shielded his electric blue eyes. He wonders if his mom or Marlene went all ninja on him by silently opening his blinds while he was hiding in his hazardous mess of a bed.

With a sigh, he closes the offending blinds and looks at his alarm clock on his nightstand. It's six minutes after seven, so he knows that he has some time to spare unless his next door neighbor spends an hour in the hallway bathroom. He gathers his clothes and some miscellaneous items towards the bathroom and hears incessant, noisy babbling coming from Marlene's pink door. Cool, he can hog the bathroom all he wants.

When he reaches his destination, he strips and steps into the shower. As the warm water sprayed his slightly tense muscles, he couldn't help but think about Marlene's excessive chitter chatter since it was the only real thing that entered his frazzled mind. He imagines her probably talking to her friends through a very accessorized cell phone about how freshman year was going to be "totes amazing!" He remembers telling her about a week ago to not get her hopes up and not to expect too much because high school was deadly grounds to a girl who was rainbows and unicorns. The older brother inside him reluctantly says that he hopes that his cute, annoying little sister would not be corrupted.

Personally, freshman year was just plain awkward from adapting to the changes puberty introduced, crazy hormones and a crackly voice that eventually evened out and deepened. Plus, he was introduced to many interesting things that could be either described as very pleasurable or pretty disturbing. By the end of the year, he wasn't exactly of the lowest or highest status, and he liked it that way since he never really liked having the spotlight or being disregarded as trash.

When he's done with his quick shower, he grabs a towel to ruffle his brown locks semi dry and then wraps it around his slim waist after running his fingers through his hair a couple of times. He puts his hands on the sink counter and slumps forward, letting his hands support his body weight. Denzel's looking into the slightly foggy mirror and wipes it with a hand towel, and he looks. He's looking and looking for something, but he doesn't exactly know what. Maybe with the start of a new year, he thought there would be something new making an appearance.

He keeps staring and staring, and it makes him _really_ acknowledge the fact that the adventures of a paradise called summer are really and finally gone and done. No more reckless impulses, free days of schoolwork, pure sunshine, and plain ol' fun. As he's doing his daily morning routine, he says goodbye to his days filled with video games, long afternoon naps, vacations, partying, sleeping in, and other various things.

The thought of being a senior really starts to hit him as he starts getting into the rhythm of going back to school. Senior, he's going to be a senior Denzel tells himself. He remembers recent and ongoing phone calls and text messages discussing the matter, and everyone seemed to be worked up by it but nope, not him. They all say it's the best year of high school and the only reason worth it to endure the many painful years of school. Depending on what would or could happen, it could be one of the best years of his life they also say.

However, he doesn't see it that way. He sees it as the last year that he needs to complete before he can enter the stage of being an independent person to do whatever he wished, whether it'd be traveling, continuing his education, go party wild with the booze and the chicks, or just any other thing he could be doing. Regarding high school matters, he doesn't know if he should feel excited, nervous, anxious, scared, or any other rational emotion that would fit the situation. Quite frankly, he didn't know nor did he give a shit.

Soon, he's done and checks himself out in the mirror. Sure, he didn't care about senior year, but that didn't mean that he didn't care about his appearance. Signature shaggy brown hair that is naturally amazing with no styling products in it whatsoever even though many say otherwise, check. Natural electric blue eyes, check- why the frick did he make sure he had his natural eyes there anyway? Button up shirt that he swears he always wore even before hipsters started trending it, check. Jeans that are not skinny because he's not gay, check. Expensive brand shoes, check. Necklace made up of a silver chain and his old man's wolf ring, check.

Soon, he's down the stairs and joining his mom and sister at the dining table. Marlene's in her usual girly outfit with the exception of her hair being down, reaching her mid-back. She's talking to mom about girl stuff and other things that he doesn't know or care about since he's tuning her out as he's scarfing down his extra syrupy pancakes, and mom's just sweetly nodding and occasionally adding a statement. May the gods bless her kind and gentle soul. He doesn't know how she can do all of this: working almost full time, fulfilling all their needs, _and_ going through this with all her heart as a single parent. He likes to jokingly call her Supermom.

Marlene looked like a younger mirror image of mom with her kind brown eyes and wavy brunette hair. Too bad she wasn't like her with the constant babbling from her mouth and the unneeded pink everywhere that blinded his eyes. Denzel sometimes wondered how hard the past years have been for their mother ever since the tragic and unknown accident of their father. As he got older, memories of the little family seemed to fade and disappear. He doesn't really remember what kind of man his dad was like, but sometimes mom would say that he looked and was just like him. Because of this tragedy, Denzel liked to spend time with his mom as much as he could. The teenager couldn't understand why other teens around his age like to blow off their parents, but it was their life, not his.

But of course, there was that other male party in the family. Barret Wallace. The big, burly man looked and acted like he could rearrange your face. And if you made fun of his left arm, you would probably have a big, giant foot up your ass. But, Denzel knew him well enough to know he was a sweet ol ' marshmallow or a little girl's favorite teddy bear. Yep, he's the living proof that first impressions were not always correct. The big guy was always there for mom, and Denzel could never figured out why. It could be babysitting as Barret liked to call it, finding or giving jobs, playing matchmaker, or just anything they needed, whether it was essential or not. Denzel doesn't know what his mom and Barret's relationship was or is since when asked upon, they seemed to dance around it.

He's about done with his delicious homemade breakfast and needs to tell his mom something before he forgets. "Uh, hey, Mom. Kunsel's giving me a ride today and possibly the rest of the school year, so Barret doesn't have to wait for me when he comes." He's done with his plate and orange juice and brings it over to the sink.

The wavy-haired brunette was hurriedly cleaning away. "Sure thing, honey. Marlene, make sure you tell Barret that it's just you today, alright?" She grabs the remaining plates, rinses them a bit, and then wipes down the table.

Marlene's thumbs are rapidly tapping her cell's screen. "K, Mom. I think Kunsel's here too, by the way." She opens the curtains in the living room after hearing a honk and sees a short-haired blondie in the driver's seat. "Yeah, he is. Bye, Denny!" She smirks after waving at Kunsel through the immaculate window.

"Oh, shut up, squirt." That was decidedly the most annoying nickname known to man. And with a kiss to the cheek and goodbye to mom and a brotherly tousle that earned an annoyed "HEY!", he left.

He lazily walks and opens the mahogany colored door. It's nice weather today, sunny with clear skies and a terrific breeze. Wonderful weather for a possibly wonderful or terrible day. The blue-eyed boy's just strolling down his driveway and nonchalantly examining the familiar surroundings, easily seeing the annoyed look on his best friend's face. Hey, his buddy was probably texting some chick or singing out of tune to some popular hit song anyway. He runs his slender fingers through his shaggy locks a couple of times before entering. Denzel's finally inside the car, and he hears a mildly blasting radio or CD coming from the stereo. Kunsel starts the car, and they're soon on their way to school.

"Sup. I see your hair is still flippable as ever." He mockingly flips his own hair and waggled his eyebrows.

"Sup, blondie. I see you're still living up to your stupidity." Did he see himself smirking in the rear view mirror? Oh yeah, he definitely did.

"Uh, dude. Shut up. You're such a mood killer at times. You know that, right?" His fingers were lightly tapping the wheel to the beat of the currently playing song.

"Sure, do. My sarcasm and bluntness makes up for your stupidity and lighthearted humor, while your talkative self makes up for my intentional lack of speech." Oh geez, his leg was shaking to the beat too. Leg shaking was not comfortable when he had exceptionally long legs trapped in a tiny space.

"Yep. That's why we're best buddies since, like, Pre-K or whatever. By the way, you worded myself wrong. I like to call it positivity." His hands moved in a way that looked like a rainbow since they were at a red light.

"Positivity my ass."

"Whatever, man. You know you love me. If we weren't in a car with seat belts constricting us, I'd give you the manliest hug ever, like being attacked by a giant panda." He hugged himself in example that almost resulted them in hitting another car.

"Dude, just calm your nonexistent titties down. I don't need a car accident just dying to happen. Literally." Kunsel liked to talked with his hands; he liked gesturing, and right now was not the time for hand gesturing.

"Sure thing." Did he really need to give him that grin with that mock salute, really? Kid was so lame.

It's silent besides the music playing and going through their ears. The quietness allows Denzel to think; he notices he's been doing that a lot lately, not that he hadn't before, just way more. He wonders why, but he never really was a man of many words; so why stop now? He noticed his leg stopped shaking, which relieves him, but it transitions to his fingers. Oh well. Maybe his body was anticipating for this day to happen. After all, he always did like the feel of it, the anxiety mixed with excitement. It's probably why he enjoyed junior year so much. But, why would his body be anticipating for something that his mind was not, possibly foreshadowing?

From the corner of his left eye, he sees Kunsel, his best friend of many years and hopefully more to come. The gray-eyed buddy seemed to understand him most and was very loyal to his friends, jokingly saying, "Bros before hoes." Plus, he talked enough for the both of them, but not too much that it annoyed him. He doesn't really know how they're still going on strong, considering how they were such polar opposites. Sure, they bonded over a big, blue ball that coincidentally was _and _is still their favorite color and a much discussed topic depending on the context behind the words, but that was so long ago. Today marked the official day of senior year. Did that mean that they were still bonding but over discussing who's hot or the sports championships? He doesn't know nor does he quite care since he doesn't want to start over thinking about the future when they're currently in the present. Oh yeah, when was he such an aloof person, anyway?

Instead of hurting his brain even more by over thinking the possibilities of things to come, he tries focusing on the current things happening. Kinda like how short, blond hair and dark, gray eyes clashed with shaggy brown and electric blue, or like how high popularity didn't mix with a constantly shifting one. Plus, the blondie was spunky and outgoing while he was shy and introverted. Well, that's what they all liked to call him, but he's not so sure about that. The infamous statement that people say about the shy and quiet ones makes him wary. Denzel doesn't think he has a wild or freaky side waiting to unleash itself, or does he? If he did, maybe it was just waiting for the right opportunity to strike. Hmmm, that'd be quite interesting he says to himself with a slight chuckle.

Denzel starts seeing a huge area that was filled with grass, buildings, and people that consisted mainly of aggravated teenagers. He checks the time on the car's clock; it wasn't so late as he thought they would be, although he'd rather stall then arrive early. School's getting closer and closer. Woot woot.

"Whoa. What's so funny?" Oh, did he laugh out loud or something? Kunsel was driving onto school grounds and parked near the main entrance. A handful mix of familiar and unknown people started to come into view.

He didn't really want to say the real reason, but he didn't mind telling him something that usually aggravated the other male figure. "Oh. I'll tell you later all about how you were being your idiotic, impulsive eight-year-old self when you decided to hit this beehive we found in your backyard with a baseball bat and snap," he rubbed his thumb and middle finger together to produce a noise for emphasis, "your phobia of bees have amused me ever since." Denzel crookedly grinned, showing his perfect, pearly whites.

"Shut up. I'm still going to so get you for telling Madison that I enjoy flowers and picnics. Watch out, dude." Kunsel took his pointer and middle finger, formed them into a v, aimed them at his gray eyes, and then straight back at Denzel's electric blues.

The dark-haired teen shook his head and laughed. They both fist bumped for good luck before they exited the vehicle. The shaggy brunette saw herds and groups of people exchanging hugs, kisses, hi's, hey's, or hello's with an occasional good morning. It's immediately uncomfortable. When people come up to him, he does it awkwardly since he's not so great around people or being affectionate. Basically, he's a very socially awkward child. He tries to give high fives and friendly pats on backs instead.

After a couple of awkward and uncomfortable moments of getting accustomed, Denzel and his group of friends stay out a bit. He distinctly hears them talking about hot chicks and something that he can't quite make out, probably something irrelevant anyway. Meanwhile, he's just standing with his hands in his pockets and making sure this was not a dream gone wrong. He remembers the familiar smell of designer cologne and perfume with a mix of smoke and sweat. How enticing. But the longer he stays out, the more he starts to feel claustrophobic, which was ridiculous since he had been stuck in tiny places before and never freaked out. Did the stench nauseate him or did he dislike people so much that he was a misanthrope?

Denzel's starting to feel a bit woozy. He holds the bridge of his nose by his thumb and fore finger, takes a deep breath, and slowly exhales. That helps a bit, but he'd feel more secure inside. He regretfully tells the gang that they would catch up later, but it's no big deal since they were used to him seemingly doing this daily throughout their school years together, whether the time together was short or long. But before he could enter the pristine school building, which puzzles him since he's never seen it so clean but immediately remembers it's the first day, he hears a very familiar female voice that he practically grew up with. "Hey. Wait up, long legs! I'm coming with you." Casey. Casey Connerly.

Typical girl next door. Y'know, the girl with the attributes and features that the neighbor boy usually fell in love with in chick flicks and chicklets. He admits that she's cute, quite down to earth, possibly an ideal wife with her intelligence, good manners, and never being disrespectful unless forced. Thinking about that makes him remember this childish infatuation that he harbored for her when she used to always wear two pigtails and always carried her beloved Moogle. He also remembers constantly going to her house because she had the most tastiest blueberry muffins _ever_; he thinks that this could be the reason behind his childhood crush.

Growing up with her wasn't so bad since she tended to blend in with the boys, usually playing some sport or video game. So, it was a huge shocker when she blossomed after everyone hit puberty, but nothing really seemed to change except for one little thing that wasn't exactly proven fact. Denzel wonders if he's just being paranoid or over analytical, but he thinks that she could possibly have a past or remaining crush on him since she's always following him, although not in a creepy stalker way, or always involved in something including him. But, the thought usually cancels out when she expresses a love interest. At the same time, he questions himself for even thinking or noticing these things, but he does a bit soul searching and reassures himself that she's only like a little sister or very good friend. He definitely knows that he does not love her. Heck, he never _loved _anyone actually. Well, there was a love for family and friends, but he never loved someone so much that he'd felt the need to say and feel I-love-you-so-much-that-I'd-catch-a-grenade-for-you and whatever the rest of that ridiculous and obsessive stalker-like song said. Sure, he admired and was attracted to people, but that was another story that he would rather not go over right now in his jumbled up mind.

So, they're walking down the halls together side by side, not so close that hips touched but close enough for their feet to naturally fall into sync. His backpack is loosely slung over one shoulder, and she's holding several books in the crook of one arm while carrying a small bag. It's rather quiet between them besides the hustling and bustling of students around them. No, it's not awkward since it feels like a companionable silence. After all, they've been practically best friends since the age of eight. While they're steadily walking, he notices her occasionally sweeping her bangs to the side of her face or putting a piece of auburn-colored hair behind her ear. He wonders why he's noticing her actions, the slightly noticeable squeak of shoes, the brighter lighting, and a sharp, pungent smell that hinted at a recent thorough cleaning. And then, he remembers, remembers that he's an artist, so it was a normal thing for a person like him with that occupation to pay attention to detail.

"So, how's Marlene on her first day of school so far?" He cranes his neck a bit to the side so that his face would meet hers and her smiling brown orbs.

"Iunno. You tell me. Haven't seen her since this morning." He unconsciously flips his hair out of habit.

"Really now? You're a terrific big brother then! By the way, when are you gonna cut your long mane? I've known you for nearly ten years and have never seen it short." She tiptoes and tousles his unruly hair a bit, earning a stare that would hurt like daggers.

"If you haven't noticed, it's kinda my thing, what people recognize me for. Plus, it's not too long that it's distasteful, and I make sure that it's short enough so that I don't look like an idiot." He smiles triumphantly, which earns a stuck out tongue from his female companion.

"Wow, I've never seen you so defensive and speak so passionately over something. I guess I should feel quite accomplished. Well, I think I better jet and put these heavy books away." They say their farewells and wave away at each other.

Bah. Speaking of books, he had to put his away too, and that meant saying hello to his locker. If you couldn't tell, he hated lockers with a burning passion. It's actually pretty ironic since before entering high school, he was naive by thinking lockers were fascinating. Boy was he wrong. Freshman year was just plain horrible since he couldn't put things in or take things out. People say he was incompetent and just being ridiculous. No, lockers were the source of all evil and hated him. There were bruised hands, face whacking, and crocodile tears to prove it. He definitely did not cry over a stupid chunk of metal called a locker. There was just a searing pain accompanied with dryness of the throat and glassy eyes. He definitely never cried over a stupid locker. No way. There sure was lots of trash talking though.

After making a few turns and acknowledging some people, he's finally at the cursed locker. He notices that it's near a water fountain, which meant there was a bathroom nearby. He doesn't really care if it was for males or females right now. Denzel was focused on only one thing and one task. He knows there might be something wrong with him when he decides to have a heart-to-heart talk and says to the locker, "Hey. I'd really appreciate it if we make amends this year. I don't need anymore injuries. K, thanks." Oh gosh, he did not just do that. Face palm.

"Someone talking to a locker. That's perfectly normal. Lockers weren't exactly my best friend in high school either."

He hears a feminine yet slight husky voice; he likes it. The seventeen year old never really liked girls that sounded too high pitch. Girls that sounded like that usually reminded him of defenseless, delicate girls that would possibly cry over a broken nail. It reminded him of Marlene, so he thinks she ruined a huge part of his love life by being the way she is; but he doesn't mind. He likes a girl who could pack a punch, easily able to defend herself without constantly needing a male figure nearby.

The shaggy brunette turns around to meet the owner of the voice, not wanting to be rude, and he holds his breath when he does. He can't believe he's thinking the most cliché thought ever, but she's the most beautiful girl he's ever seen. She was a brunette with long, thick locks that flowed down her back; he always liked to imagine tangling his fingers through beautiful girls with beautiful hair. She had brown eyes that reminded him of melting warm chocolate and when the light hit them just so, they would have a hint of ruby with some golden flecks. The beauty had perfect, porcelain skin with the body of a goddess. Oh god, he's starting to sound like a fucking pansy.

"Um, why are you looking at me like that? Did I grow a third eye or something?" The nameless dark-haired beauty had a smile that could probably light a couple of rooms. Shit. He needed to stop. And fast.

He shakes his head stiffly. "Uh n-no. It's just that... I don't think I've seen you around here before." That came out a bit awkwardly, but it was good enough for him. It was a normal thing for beauties to make guys speechless, right? Fuck, he needed his locker to physically hurt him somehow soon.

She tilts her head to the side a bit and lets out an amused giggle. "Actually, I am. Well, I think I'd better get going, don't wanna be late for the first day. Maybe I'll have the pleasure of teaching you." She throws another smile, turns around, and heads into a certain direction.

Wait, teaching? His mind starts clearing up after the absence of the ethereal beauty, and he remembers. He remembers the seemingly large bag filled with papers, folders, and books. He remembers the mature, sophisticated, and moderately cut dress. He remembers the few teachers passing her exchanging good mornings. He remembers their small conversation with her speaking away at a safe distance.

Holy mother fucking shit. Well, that was a terrific start to this new school year.

**A/N: **So, how was it? Loved it or hated it? Please tell me your thoughts by reviewing, pretty please? I don't think I've written something this long with so much thoughts involved. I need critique. Thanks for reading!


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